


Late Night Anxiety

by soggycardboardbox



Series: Devil Protocreed [5]
Category: Assassin's Creed, Devil May Cry, Prototype (Video Game)
Genre: Bickering, M/M, Threesome - M/M/M, Worry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-07
Updated: 2013-04-07
Packaged: 2017-12-07 17:31:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/751150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soggycardboardbox/pseuds/soggycardboardbox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alex has been gone a little too long and Desmond starts to worry. Dante is tired and annoyed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Late Night Anxiety

The rain made Dante sleepy, the splattering of the drips against the windows of their apartment a gentle lull to the normally energetic demon hunter. He had face-planted into the threadbare sofa earlier that evening when the rain had started, one long leg dangling off the side of the couch while the other hung off the arm rest, toes twitching every now and then. Desmond couldn't imagine how he could even breathe in that position, let alone sleep. The assassin paced anxiously around the living room as he awaited the return of his other lover. Alex had been gone for several days now on some self-appointed mission and Desmond was just on the edge of worry, though he seemed to be the only one. Dante had been woken up a few times by Desmond’s anxiousness and had barked at him to ‘quit being such a fucking woman’ before passing out again, dark rimmed eyes fluttering shut with fatigue. 

It was around the seventh time that the assassin’s pacing has woken Dante from his rain-induced coma when the devil finally snapped. He sprang to his feet, lightning-fast for a guy who, just moments ago, was dead to the world. Desmond turned just in time to catch a face full of muscular chest as wiry arms wrapped around him in an iron embrace, lifting him up and over to the coach where he was unceremoniously dumped with a light ‘oof’. The glazed look was back in the hunter’s eye and Desmond had less than a second to prepare himself when Dante slumped over, effectively pinning the older man to the couch. “Now would you fucking chill already? That ass will be back soon enough.” Dante mumbled against the back of Desmond’s neck, breath hot and soothing. The assassin snorted, shoving an elbow into the soft section of the devil’s stomach, showing his disdain for being manhandled. Dante growled and gave his lover a pinch before relaxing and falling back into his unnatural sleep. Desmond wiggled for a few seconds before sighing, exasperated. Soon though, the steady beat of the droplets against the window panes and the rise and fall of Dante’s chest had the assassin slipping off into a light snooze. 

What Desmond could only guess was a few hours later, he woke to the sound of the apartment door sliding open almost silently and the light tread of footsteps. He tensed on instinct, his training taking over before Dante’s sleep-rough voice rose grouchily from behind his head, “See, told you the asshole would be back, just can’t resist me.” A rumble of a dark chuckle emanated from the living room doorway where Alex stood, hood pulled back to show off blazing blue eyes and a tumble of dark hair, topped off with a content smirk as he gazed at the two bodies crammed on the worn couch. Desmond motioned vaguely with his fingers, arm still trapped under Dante’s dead weight, urging the virus to come closer. Alex approached with long strides, bending at the waist to brush his lips along Desmond’s hairline, who smiled dopily, sleep still coursing through his system. A tan hand snaked its way to Alex’s collar, jerking him closer so Dante can crush their mouths together. The devil fell back with a muttered, ‘Fucker…” before nuzzling his nose into the material of Desmond’s shirt. Alex settled down on the floor, leaning against the couch, head titled back, coming into contact with Desmond’s hip like a reassuring weight. Outside the rain continued to beat against the pavement, a steady lull in the dark.


End file.
